Death is Only the Beginning
by crematosis
Summary: Tony didn't really start doing anything important with his life until he was already dead.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Ghosts are so much fun to write. This will be an interesting romp through angst, fluff, humor, and sexy times. I can't wait to see where this takes me. But there will be eventual Stuckony.

Disclaimer: This was another avenger kink prompt with the basic premise of ghosts. I'm just going all over the place with it.

Tony knew he had messed up big time when he looked down and saw his shrapnel-riddled body lying in the sand.

Fuck.

He had so much he still wanted to do with his life. Build bigger and better inventions, have more wild escapades with Rhodey, date Pepper, host the largest party in history. All the basics.

And here he was, killed by one of the weapons he had helped create.

"What a way to go," he said miserably.

"I'll say. I always thought you'd end up drinking yourself to death."

Tony whirled around.

The ghost of Steve Rogers was floating a few inches above the downed Humvee, still in his Captain America uniform, minus the stupid cowl.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut. "Okay, look," he said. "I've had a really rough day. So can we save the lecture for later?"

"There's no point in telling you anything you don't want to hear," Steve said. "You've never listened to anybody else offering you advice. Why should I be any different?"

Jesus, Steve was way more of a self-righteous asshole than he had been lead to believe.

Tony floated closer to Steve and looked him straight in the eye. "You don't know a thing about me, Mr. Perfect. So stop talking shit."

"I do know you, actually. I've been watching you for some time." Steve shook his head. "You've made a lot of bad decisions over the years."

"Then why didn't you stop me from making them?" Tony hissed.

Steve leveled him with a disapproving look. "I'm a ghost, not a guardian angel."

"So then you had no business following me around and spying on me. But that's how you get your kicks, isn't it? Watching people and judging them for not living up to your standards. And somehow people like you." Tony shook his head sadly.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "Howard would probably be ashamed of you right now."

"Don't you dare bring my father into this," Tony hissed. He shoved at Steve, a little surprised when his hands didn't go straight through him. No, he had actually managed to push Steve away. And if he could push him, he sure as hell could punch him.

He swung hard, punching Steve across the face. Steve looked a little stunned, but he didn't fight back. And that just pissed Tony off more. So he kept swinging.

His fists were connecting with Steve's face. He could see the way each blow pushed Steve back and feel the impact of hitting something solid. But no matter how many times he punched him, he wasn't doing a thing to ruin that perfect face.

"Are you done?" Steve asked finally.

Tony looked down at his hands. By now, the knuckles should have been split open and they should have been raw and bloody. But they didn't look any different. And he didn't feel any pain.

"Damnit," Tony said. He massaged his temples. "This is just way too much to handle right now. I need a drink. But, oh wait, ghosts can't get drunk, can they? Fuck my life." He gave Steve a sidelong look. "Going to talk shit about my drinking again?"

Steve's shoulders sagged. "You have every right to be angry," he said. "I was angry for so many years. At Hydra for making those bombs, at Bucky for falling off that train, at Peggy for going on living while I was dead. And then I was angry at Howard for wasting so much time searching for me instead of spending what little time he had with his family." He shook his head. "I shouldn't be judging you. I wanted to get drunk after Bucky fell."

"Now that's an acceptable response to grief," Tony said. "Drinking doesn't really solve any problems, but it makes things feel better for a little while."

"Not going to help you this time," Steve said. "You'll have to handle all your feelings about death on your own."

"Right. The five stages of grief. Got anger covered already. And then denial, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. But how am I supposed to accept this? How did this even fucking happen?" He frowned as armored vehicles surrounded the Humvee. Heavily armed men stepped out and began prodding the bodies.

"Terrorists," Tony said in disgust. "I make weapons for our men. How the hell did terrorists get their hands on these?"

"Obadiah Stane," Steve said.

Tony blinked. "My business partner? No, no, you've got it all wrong. There's no way Obie would-"

"He talked you into making this weapons demonstration, didn't he? You could have sent one of your salespeople to make the pitch, maybe one of your engineers to explain the technical aspects. But he convinced you that the CEO of the company was the only one who could really make the sale."

Tony hesitated. That was all true. He would have preferred to stay home in his penthouse, but Obadiah had somehow talked him into going in person.

"I'm sure he's already got a speech prepared about how your death shows how unstable the world really is right now. And since he's going to take over your company after your death, he's in prime position to keep the fighting going."

"That fucking bastard," Tony hissed. "I am going to go poltergeist on him. Make sure he never gets to sleep again."

"Not happening," Steve said firmly.

"Oh, don't go all moral crusader on me. He sold my weapons to terrorists and had me killed so he could take over my company. He deserves me haunting his ass for the rest of his life."

"Not that I disagree with you," Steve said. "But that's going to be a little difficult since nobody else can see us."

Tony wilted. "Nobody?"

Steve shook his head. "I've tried. Trust me. Peggy told me to meet her at the Stork Club when it was all over. And I was there, sitting right across from her. But she couldn't see me. Do you know how much it hurt to watch her cry over me and know there was nothing I could do to ease the pain?"

"Damn," Tony said. He could imagine how Pepper and Rhodey would mourn him. And there'd be no way he could assure them that he was fine.

"So, if we've gotten the arguing out of our systems, I'd like us to work together," Steve said.

"Come on, Cap. We're dead. Hero time is over."

Steve shook his head. "Your death's left a lot of bad people in positions of power. The Ten Rings are only going to get more powerful with Stane in control of your company. We have to stop them."

"How? We can't exactly go up to them and tell them to fuck off. I know you don't want to just sit back and watch the bad guys win, but let's face it. There's nothing more we can do."

"Well," Steve said carefully. "It's not much, but we can mess with electronics a little."

"Fuck yes," Tony said. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Even if Obadiah couldn't see him, he would feel Tony's presence as he fucked up everything the son of a bitch tried to make.

"I didn't even know for awhile," Steve said with a shrug. "It took me five years to realize I could make lights flicker or change the channels on the TV. And then another twenty years before I figured out I could overload circuits somehow."

"Good, good," Tony said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "This is prime poltergeist activity."

"Revenge can come later," Steve said firmly. "First, we need to stop the terrorists."

"Look. I'm going to do my part. Stop Stane from sending them any more weapons. Have one of your other ghost buddies help you with the Ten Rings."

"There isn't anyone else."

"Oh come on. I'm sure they'll be just as good-"

"You don't understand, Tony. We're the only ones. There aren't any others."

Tony blinked. "No other ghosts?"

Steve shook his head. "I've watched thousands of people die and none of them have become ghosts like us."

"Wow," Tony said. "What makes us so special?"

"Unfinished business," Steve said grimly. "We have to stop these terrorists and we're the only ones who can do it."


	2. Chapter 2

Tony knew taking down the terrorists was important. Steve didn't have to tell him twice. But he had other unfinished business to attend to.

Even though they couldn't see him, he still had to pay Pepper and Rhodey a final visit. They were really the only friends he had ever had and he had to at least try and say goodbye. And while he was in the neighborhood, he was going to pay Obadiah a friendly visit, see what he could learn about his dealings with the terrorists and maybe scare him straight. It was an ambitious goal, but he was a Stark and Starks always aimed high.

Steve looked a little disappointed when Tony announced he was heading back to the U.S., but he had no right to judge him. He had admitted to going to see Peggy and if he was allowed to see her, Tony should be allowed to see the people he cared about.

"Don't give me that look," Tony said indignantly. "I'm not abandoning you and your noble quest to save the world. Just have to see a few people first."

"They can wait," Steve said. "They'll still be here after we eliminate the terrorists."

"And how do you know that? I never thought I'd be dead before fifty and yet here I am. Nothing's certain. All I know is that I wish I could have told them what they meant to me before it was too late. And if I don't take this chance to see them now, I'm going to regret it for the rest of my afterlife."

Steve was silent for a long time and then he slowly nodded. "Okay, you've got a few days to straighten up your affairs. And then I want you back here to help me out. I can't do this without you."

Tony offered him a sloppy salute and flew off in the direction he supposed America was. It wasn't like he could ask anybody for directions.

Well, okay, he could have asked Steve. But he'd rather be shot ten times over than ask that man anything. Even ghosts had their pride.

And if he took the more scenic route back to Malibu, he wasn't going to be too torn up about it. Flying was pretty awesome. He had flown in the jet countless times and he thought he'd be over the sights by now, but it was so different flying solo. He could go as high or as low as he wanted and since he was a ghost, he could do flips and barrel rolls without worrying about getting sick to his stomach. It was just too bad that he couldn't feel the wind through his hair.

It took him a little longer than he would have like to find his way back to California. But finally, he touched down outside his mansion.

"Well, this is it," he said quietly. He walked through the doors.

He had assumed that the news of his death wouldn't have made it home yet, but when he finally found Pepper, she was down in his lab, crying while boxing up some of his lab equipment.

"Aw, Pep," Tony said. "Tears for your lost boss?"

He regretted how much he had taken her presence for granted. She had always been around to clean up his messes and put up with him. And he had never even thanked her for it. He had even pushed her buttons a few times just to see how angry he could make her. But he hated seeing her cry.

"It's going to be okay," he said quietly. "Don't cry for me, Pep." He reached out for her and was a little disappointed to see his hands go right through her.

Pepper shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. "It's freezing in here. Jarvis, could you turn up the heat a little, please?"

"Of course, Miss Potts. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, thank you. It's just-" Pepper smiled weakly. "It's just nice to have someone to talk to."

"That was one of the reasons for my creation. To provide companionship for Mr. Stark. A function I am no longer able to perform."

It shouldn't have been possible for the A.I. to actually sound melancholy, but his tone seemed distinctly sad.

Tony sighed and draped himself over one of his computers. This wasn't what he wanted. He had hoped to see Pepper going about her day like usual: bright, vibrant, and competent. One last good memory of the woman he might have loved. But seeing her like this felt like a punch to the gut. Especially knowing that it was his fault she was in so much pain.

He shoved a hand through the monitor. God, he wished he could pick up the piece of crap and hurl it across the room, scream about how unfair this was. He still had so much living left to do.

"Miss Potts, I am detecting an unusual energy reading in the building."

Tony perked up. Was Jarvis actually able to sense him?

Pepper dabbed at her eyes. "What is it, Jarvis?"

"I'm not certain at the moment. But I will be monitoring and analyzing what I find."

Tony huffed and flew down to circle around the bots. "Be good for Uncle J, will you?" He patted the air above You's frame. "Never got around to upgrading your treads, did I? Sorry, buddy. Just one of the many things I wish I had gotten around to."

Dummy let out a high-pitched whine.

"I'm sure she will take that into consideration," Jarvis said. "For now, I think it best that we do not trouble Miss Potts unnecessarily."

"No, go ahead," Pepper said quietly. "What does he want?"

"He wants to know if he's going to be boxed up with the rest of Mr. Stark's possessions. It is his wish to remain here in the lab. This is his home and even though Mr. Stark is no longer with us, it's still filled with his presence."

"I will definitely take that into consideration." She glanced around the lab with a sigh. "It doesn't have to all go to Stark Industries, I suppose. Although they're the only ones who would use any of this stuff. Does Dummy really want to stay down here with no one to keep him company all day?"

Dummy beeped and clicked his claw.

"I'm afraid he is adamant, Miss Potts."

"Very well. I'll discuss it with Obadiah when he gets back."

Back? From where? If news had already gotten out about Tony's death, Obadiah would have been expected to make some sort of statement on behalf of the company. Unless…

Goddamnit, he had probably gone to Afghanistan to identify the body.

Tony watched Pepper walk out of the lab, clutching her clipboard to her chest. "Oh, Pep," he said quietly. "You're a strong woman. You'll get through this. And you'll be so much better off without me."

He turned back to the bots. "I'm not letting Obadiah take you," he declared fiercely. "And he's not taking Jarvis either. I'm going to get rid of him and the Ten Rings and then I'm coming back so you'll never have to be alone."

Haunting his lab for the rest of eternity didn't seem so bad. It might actually be kind of fun.

"Catch you later, kids," he said as he flew towards the ceiling.

"Sir?" Jarvis asked hesitantly.

You whirred and made a series of clicking sounds.

"No, it's alright," Jarvis said. "Just a minor malfunction."

Tony turned back to gaze down at his little family and then forced himself to move on. Steve was right. The bots would still be there when he got back. His human friends were the ones he needed to see first.

He circled around the mansion until he found Happy down in the second-level garage, polishing the rims on the Bugatti.

It was a wasted effort. Nobody would be driving any of the cars now. They'd either be sold off to some other rich men or preserved as a collection in a museum.

"I remember the day Mr. Stark brought you home," Happy murmured to the car. "You were always one of his favorites. I bet he's looking down from heaven right now, wishing he could take you for a spin one last time."

"Oh, Happy," Tony said with a shake of his head.

Everyone grieved in different ways, but this was the first time Tony had ever heard somebody trying to comfort a car after their owner's death.

"I wish I had been there to drive him," Happy said quietly. "I bet I could have gotten him out in one piece." He rose and patted the car's hood. "No use thinking about what might have been. Mr. Stark's dead and there's nothing we can do about it now."

Sad, but true.

"Bye, Happy," he said. "Hope the next asshole you chauffeur realizes how lucky he is to have you before he's dead."

And now there was nothing left to do but go back and see Rhodey at the Air Force base.

Rhodey was alone in the barracks, sitting on the edge of his bunk. There was a bottle of whiskey on the floor and a glass tumbler in his hand. "Here's to you, Tones," he murmured, lifting the glass towards a picture of Tony hung over the back of the door. "Hope the next world treats you better than this one."

"Come on, Rhodes," Tony said. "This is just sad, man. Pathetic. What's next, lighting a fucking candle and playing some mopey 80s music? If you're going to drink in my honor, you need to get wild and shit-faced. None of this maudlin crap. I can't right now. I can't even look at you like this." He shook his head. "And you owe me, you know. If I hadn't kicked you out of that Humvee, you'd be dead, too. So, you should be drinking to me, building a shrine in my honor, all that good stuff. You should be grateful, you should be…" He wilted. "Just be okay, please?

In life, he had been a pain in Rhodey's ass and in death, he was still making the man miserable.

And sure, it was touching to know the people he cared about actually missed him, but he wished they didn't miss him so hard. He was getting seriously worried about Rhodey's mental stability and that was saying a lot.

Rhodey knocked back another glass of whiskey and proclaimed, "To the best friend I ever had."

"Okay, now you're just being ridiculous, Rhodes. Which means you've had way too much to drink. So let's just put this away now."

His hand went right through the bottle.

"Goddamnit."

He punched the wall, sighing when his hand went through it, too. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he couldn't touch anything.

There was a crackle of electricity and all the lights in the barrack went out.

"Oops."

"What the hell?" Rhodey asked.

And, oh hey, ghosts had night vision. Nifty.

Tony dipped his hand back into the wall. He couldn't feel what he was touching, but he was pretty sure there were electrical cables right beneath his hands. And with a little twist of his hand, the lights started flickering on and off.

It was easier than Tony expected. Had it really taken Steve five years to figure this out?

"Alright," Rhodey growled, rising from the bed. "Who's messing with the power?"

Channeling despair into anger. That seemed like a reasonable short-term solution to keep Rhodey okay. He'd have to think of something else later, but this was a good start.

"Sorry, buddy," Tony said, spiraling up towards the ceiling. "You'll thank me later. Or well, maybe not."

It really was too bad they couldn't have a laugh about this later. Rhodey had been with him through so many crazy times. But this was just one time they couldn't share.

From the base, he streaked back to the scene of his death. It was hard to recognize the place now that most of the bodies and wreckage had been cleared away. But Steve was still there, hovering over the rocky outcropping.

"You actually came back," Steve said, his face splitting into a welcoming smile.

Tony swore he could feel something clench in his chest. But that was silly because ghosts didn't feel things.

"Of course I came back. I promised you, didn't I?"

"Don't get testy. I know how hard it is to leave loved ones behind. I was sure you'd want to spend a lot more time with them."  
"I'll go back and see them when this terrorist business is all over," Tony muttered.

And when they were done mourning him.

"What did you find out from Obadiah?"

"Nothing yet," Tony said. "Obadiah wasn't there. I think he might actually be on his way here."

Steve nodded slowly. "It makes sense. He'll want to see the body before he gives the Ten Rings their payment."

"Ah, yes, my gorgeous corpse."

The corners of Steve's mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. "You don't actually look that bad, considering."

"Considering that I'm dead?"

"Considering the explosion. The blast could have ripped your body to shreds, but the majority of the shrapnel stayed in this area." He traced a finger over Tony's chest to illustrate his point.

Tony felt his chest constrict again and he pulled away from Steve. "So if Obie's going to be there to see my body, we need to be there to see him. Did you see where they moved me?"

Steve nodded. "Air Force base."

"Goddamnit. I was just there with Rhodey."

"I'm surprised you couldn't sense anything. Ghosts are supposed to feel a pull to their bodies. I know I can always find where my plane went down." Steve cocked his head to one side and gave him an appraising look. "I could take you there sometime. The scenery isn't very exciting, but I'm sure you would be interested in the old Hydra technology. It was way ahead of its time. Probably even advanced by today's standards."

"Ha," Tony said. "Not by my standards."

That earned an actual smile from Steve. "We'll see. Come on. Let's head to the base and have a look around before Stane shows up. I'll let you take the lead since you've been there before."

Tony shrugged. "I don't know the place that well. This is the first time I've actually been to Afghanistan. Rhodey and I usually just Skype."  
"You're still probably more familiar with the place than I am."

"Well, if you say so. Follow me." Tony rose into the air and started off at a nice casual speed Steve could surely keep up with.

"What are you doing?" Steve called after him.

Tony paused. "Heading towards the base. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Oh dear. Is this how you've been getting around the whole time?"

"Why?" Tony didn't think there was anything wrong with the way he was flying, but if Steve started to critique his form, he was going to punch him again.

"Just watch," Steve said. There was a determined set to his expression and then he vanished. A moment later he reappeared in the same spot. "I just traveled from here to New York."

"Whoa. How'd you do that?"

"Ghosts also feel a strong connection with people we were close to. If I think about Peggy, I can be at her side in an instant."

"That's handy," Tony said. Pepper wasn't always going to be at his mansion and it helped if he wouldn't have to go looking for her every time he wanted to check in on her.

"So we can travel directly to the base and prepare an ambush for Stane when he arrives. Or we can travel to wherever Stane is now. He was once a big part of your life. I'm sure if you concentrated-"

"Hell no. I'm not going to give that jerk any more thought than I need to. I'll wait for him here with you."


	3. Chapter 3

When they arrived back on base, Rhodey was asleep, or more likely, passed out in his bunk.

"He's not usually like this," Tony said quietly. He was aware whispering was silly since Rhodey couldn't hear them, but he couldn't fight the instinct to keep his voice down.

"Everyone grieves differently," Steve said.

Tony shrugged and dipped a finger into the wall, flicking off the lights. He was pretty sure Rhodey wouldn't want anybody else to see him in such a state, so the least he could offer Rhodey was the shield of darkness.

He turned back to find Steve gaping at him.

"How'd you do that?"

"What?" Tony asked. "You told me we could mess with electricity. Or are you just surprised I picked it up so fast?"

Steve shook his head. "When I told you ghosts could mess with the lights, I didn't mean it like that."

Tony watched as Steve sank his hand into the wall. The lights flickered faintly like the glow of a nightlight, and when Steve removed his hand, they faded back out.

"Huh," Tony said. "Maybe my ghost powers are stronger since I'm newly dead. Like how baby scorpions are more dangerous than the adults."

"I don't think that's it."

"Well, maybe the afterlife balances everything out. You got to be big, buff Captain America in life and you get to be a wimpy ghost."

Steve gave him another disapproving look and glided out of the room. Tony hurried to follow after him.

Steve stopped right outside the barracks. "Your body will be in the morgue," he said, turning his head to take in the rest of the base. "And unfortunately, yours won't be the only one."

Tony bowed his head. All those soldiers killed simply because Stane wanted to take over his company. Collateral damage.

"Not your fault," Steve said. He turned back to Tony. "The blame is on Stane and those terrorists. And we're going to make sure they don't kill anybody else. You with me, Tony?"

Tony's head snapped up. "Hell yes." There was nothing quite like a pep talk from Captain America.

Steve's mouth curled into a smile. "Good. Morgue's this way," he said with a jerk of his head. "Let's figure out how we're going to spook 'em."

Tony swooped ahead into the small building. The coroner was inside, examining a body under the glow of fluorescent lights. Thankfully, it wasn't his. He didn't think he could stand to watch himself being cut open for autopsy.

But his body was in there somewhere, probably in one of those big, slide-out drawers. Tony had seen enough TV to know how these things worked. He pressed his face through the first drawer and stared at the body inside. Wasn't his. Probably one of the soldiers from the Humvee, though it was hard to tell without their uniform.

Steve hovered behind him. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for my body. Ah, here we go." Tony phased through the drawer and hovered a few inches above his body. It was still weird seeing himself like this. Seeing his skin so pale and his face blank.

A second later, Steve joined him. "You look so peaceful," he said quietly. "Like you're only-"

"In a coma?"

The corner of Steve's mouth twitched. "Having a long rest."

They backed out of the drawer together.

"So, this is where I am," Tony said. "And this is where Obadiah will be. So what's the plan?"

"Not sure yet." Steve looked up at the rows of lights overhead. "We can start with the lights, of course. After that-"

He broke off with a start as Obadiah Stane's imposing figure strode in through the door, flanked by two bodyguards.

"Ah, Mr. Stane." The coroner pulled off his gloves and reached out to shake Obadiah's hand. "Thank you for coming."

Obadiah smiled and shook the man's hand. "Tony was a remarkable man. It's a shame he had to meet his end here."

But he was still smiling and Tony longed to punch the look of smug satisfaction right off his face.

"Lights," Steve ordered.

Tony thrust his arm into the wall and the room went dark.

The coroner made a little sound of surprise and he looked up at the overhead lights as if staring at them long enough would make them turn back on. "Er, sorry about that. Generator must be out."

Steve rubbed his hands together. "We're off to a good start. They're already nervous and unsettled."

"Why, Captain," Tony purred. "I'd almost think you like scaring the hell out of these poor people."

"Oh, I don't like scaring poor people," Steve said. "But I do love scaring greedy assholes who betray their friends. They deserve not being able to sleep at night."

Tony let out a low whistle. "Wow. Remind me never to cross you."

Steve grinned and floated up to the ceiling. He ran a hand slowly across the lights, letting each one flicker briefly and then die out. The two bodyguards followed the pattern. With their guns.

"Jesus," Tony said. "It doesn't take much to spook these guys, does it?"

"Well, they know their employer. People who are double-dealing make twice as many enemies."

Well, that made sense. It was actually kind of profound.

"And now we turn the lights back on," Steve said. "All the way on."

Tony nodded and put his hand back through the wall. Beside him, Steve did the same.

The room lit up, their combined force making the lights brighter than they'd ever been. The coroner put a hand up to shield his eyes and squinted at the ceiling.

"We need them brighter," Steve hissed. "Concentrate, Tony. Really concentrate."

Tony gritted his teeth. He was concentrating. All his will was focused on those damn lights. He wanted them brighter like he had never wanted anything in his life.

The lights powered up, blindingly bright. And then there was a loud pop as all the bulbs burst.

The coroner yelped and ducked under the table to avoid the glass. The bodyguards pushed Stane back and shielded him with their bodies.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Stane roared as he picked himself off the ground.

"I don't know," the coroner said as he crawled out from under the table. "The lights have never malfunctioned like this before."

"Malfunction, my ass," Stane muttered. "Move out, men. We have some people to see."

"W-wait," the coroner called after them. "What about Mr. Stark's body?"

"Call Colonel Rhodes. I'm a busy man." Stane slammed the door on his SUV and the car roared off into the desert, followed by the rest of Stane's fleet.

Tony doubled over laughing. "Obie thinks those terrorists double-crossed him. My god, Steve, this is perfect! With any luck, they'll wipe each other out."

"That's the plan anyway."

"It's a brilliant plan. Steve, you're a genius. You're-" Tony coughed and quickly averted his eyes. "You're Captain America. This is probably normal stuff for you."

Steve laid a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I couldn't have done it without you. Come on. Let's follow Stane and see if they really do kill each other off."

Stane's convoy stopped at a makeshift camp in the desert, half a mile from where Tony had been killed. The place was crawling with terrorists, every one of them brandishing an assault rifle. But they let Stane's car into camp without question. It was just another horrible indication of how deeply Obadiah was involved with these people.

Obadiah got out of his vehicle first, flanked by the guards from the morgue. And then the rest of the men piled out of their vehicles.

A couple terrorists came out from the biggest tent in the middle of the tent to greet Stane.

"Welcome," said the man who appeared to be their leader. "We will talk business. Leave your guards outside."

Stane turned and smiled at his men, holding one hand up in a placating gesture before he stepped inside the tent. Tony instantly felt unsettled. Stane was supposed to be angry at these guys.

"We have done as you asked," said the terrorist, settling himself inside the tent. "But you did not tell us the target was the great Tony Stark himself."

"You didn't ask."

The terrorist's eyes narrowed. "You pay us trinkets for killing a prince. My men deserve extra compensation for our great success."

"Out of the question. You're already getting what you deserve."

"We deserve an empire, stretching across all of Asia." The terrorist began pouring a glass of whiskey.

While the man was occupied, Stane casually slipped two little earpieces into his ears.

"Son of a bitch," Tony growled.

"What?"

"I made this thing. It emits a frequency that causes temporarily paralysis. It was designed for the army, so they could take down an enemy stronghold without casualties. But again, Stane's using it for nefarious purposes."

"We can accomplish this with a few of Stark's Jerichos. A just reward for killing him. You would not want to strain our partnership, would you?"

Stane leaned in towards the man and held a remote beside his ear. With a push of the button, the terrorist's body stiffened, the veins in his face darkening."This is how I reward people who cross me," he said. "A helpful reminder that you're not in control here. I am." He patted the man's head. "I saw your work at the morgue. Supposed to convince me I need your protection, I assume. Well, you people have served your purpose. I don't need you anymore."

And then he calmly walked out of the tent as if nothing had happened.

Tony was horrified to see that while Stane had been chatting with the leader of the terror ring, his men had rounded up the rest of the terrorists and were holding them at gunpoint.

"Load up all the weapons," Stane said, gesturing to the crates of Stark tech scattered around the camp. "Dispose of the rest."

Tony jerked back as Stane's men opened fire on their captives. "Jesus Christ," he breathed out. "All this time I've been…"

"Living with a monster," Steve said grimly.

Tony shuddered as Stane slid into his car, his men following close behind. "And I thought the terrorists were the worst because, you know, they're the ones that actually killed me. But, Stane, my god. He's a fucking sociopath. Doesn't give a damn about anybody's life but his own."

Steve put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "We're going to avenge your death," he said. "A man with Stane's morals should never be in charge of a weapons company."


End file.
